


Slumped Shoulders

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Hugs, M/M, Tired Jafar, fluff?, just Sinja hug, technically that means everyday Ja’far but who cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25527883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jafar is tired, and Sinbad doenst take his excuses to not rest.
Relationships: Jafar/Sinbad (Magi)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Slumped Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> Jafar: “i don’t need rest-“  
> Sinbad, staring into Ja’far’s soul: nO  
> Or idk maybe he forces Ja’far to bed? Jafar needs sone sleep either way
> 
> Also I’m tired, but for some reason I thought the names order in the relationship tags were decided alphabetically. (J comes before S so Ja’far is first kinda thing) for a second I was like, waIT-

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The short timed and quiet footsteps weren’t usually something you heard, since they were often too silent for a pair of untrained ears to pick up on. Sinbad felt surprise when he heard it, the quiet taps on the stone floors, he turned his golden eyes onto the dark wooden door that lead into his neat office, watching it open slowly and with a creak.

Ja’far went inside, closing the door behind him with a quick and strong push, the tapping returning as he walked up to the scroll filled desk Sinbad was sitting at.

The almost hunched over figure stared at Sinbad with a gloomy expression, tired dark eyes with shadows looming inside the eyes, they reminded Sinbad of a night sky, the dark starless ones that had looked over their mercenary ship many years ago. Eye bags decorated the greyish pale skin, making his overworked adviser a terrifying sight. The shallow waves of hidden anger and bloodlust were looming in the background, and Sinbad put down his quill. Standing up he held the gaze of his adviser, taking a step forward, a step closer to the pale man. Ja’far’s slitted eyes followed him suspiciously, tracing the flow of pristine white cloth that wrapped over the king’s muscular shape, tracing the way the long, rich purple hair spilled across broad shoulders, catching everything in a quick blink, holding everything inside his head, watching Sinbad get closed until those golden eyes held his again, staring into his from less than a decimetre away, a bright but held back smile broke out on the handsome face women could kill for, and Sinbad placed a strong hand on a slumped shoulder. He noticed the tense ripple under his fingers, and his smile weakened.

“You know,” Sinbad murmured, pulling Ja’far closer in an embrace. “I can take care of this, you need to rest.” A strong, tanned hand rested on Ja’far’s back, stroking the tense muscle there with a surprisingly tender touch.

“But—“ Ja’far tried arguing, but was quickly shut down by another loving squeeze by the king’s strong arms. 

He couldn’t do anything about this, could he? Ja’far shook his head, a small smile intruding on the gloomy face from before as he returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Sinbad’s torso, leaning into the comforting and familiar warmth.


End file.
